Now this story's racing towards the finish, it's getting harder to write with everything coming to the boil. Wombledon is being brilliant as an uncompromisingly tough beta and is making sure I don't get away with much. Brilliant woman.

xxxxxxxxxxx

She reached across and flipped Gene's tie, chuckling. 'If I judged a man by his neckwear, I wouldn't be marrying you, for starters…'

'How dare you cast nasturtiums at my taste in ties…' Growling at her, Gene pulled on to the hard shoulder and braked hard, stopping the car too fast for comfort.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Leaving the engine running, Gene jerked the handbrake on and pulled Alex to him, kissing her hard, pushing his hands up under her blouse and unsnapping her bra. Her squawk of surprise was muffled until he freed her mouth to kiss his way down her throat, undoing buttons, licking and nipping at her flesh.

'God, Gene… Christ… oh, god…' She was overwhelmed, incapable of doing anything but surrendering to his hands and his mouth.

He pushed fabric out of his way and cupped her breast, groaning as his mouth closed over her flesh, sucking, tongue flicking until Alex was mindless with lust. His hand slid down her thigh, scrabbled at her skirt. 'Lift your hips…' He pushed her skirt up; she helped him, eagerly co-operative, panting, desperate for him. She put her hands up to grip the headrest, gasping as he devoured her with hot, open-mouthed kisses while his long, clever fingers sent her into the long spiral, spinning out of control till she bucked and shuddered, then slumped into Gene's arms, panting, mind empty, body floating…

'You okay?' He pushed her hair back from her face.

'Oh, yes… my love…' She could only whisper, beyond speech.

He saw something out of the corner of his eye and let her go, sitting up and pulling his coat round his body to hide very evident evidence. 'Shit. Sort your clothes out. Quick. We've got company.' Gene was watching his mirror as the patrol car pulled up behind them.

Dumped back into reality much too fast for her liking, Alex pulled her skirt down and did up most of the buttons on her blouse, but she couldn't do anything about the flush on her skin or her drugged eyes. She looked, all too obviously, a well-loved woman. She tipped her head back, still tingling and trembling from Gene's express attentions. 'That's what I call motorway services…' She sighed, kissing her fingers and reaching over to press them against his lips; then slid her hand on to his thigh.

She whipped her hand away as the traffic cop tapped on the window; Gene put a finger on the down button, the little motor whining.

'Trouble, sir?' The copper, a middle-aged PC with a Midlands accent, flicked a glance across at Alex before looking at Gene. From the look on the copper's face, Gene guessed he caught the blast of pheromones as the window opened.

'No, officer. All fine, thanks. Just off.'

'Shouldn't stop on the hard shoulder, sir, except in an emergency,'

'I know, constable.' Gene flashed his warrant card. 'Had to take a call.' He nodded at the radio. 'From Special Branch. Turns out this tart here,' he jerked a thumb in Alex's direction, 'is rather better connected that we realised. She's due at Scotland Yard as soon as. Some spooky bastard thinks he's got the key to unlock her, er, secrets.' He wiggled his eyebrows. 'Some people have all the luck, eh, constable?'

The plod swallowed, taking another sneaky peek at Alex's cleavage. 'Er, they do, sir. Indeed you do…'

'Must fly.' Gene shut his window with a final nod to the traffic cop, and slid the car back on to the M6. 'He'll be doing a PNC check now. That's my reputation made in West Mercia.'

'You should have let him watch the return match.'

He looked genuinely shocked. 'Alex…!'

She looked sulky, pouting at him. 'Spoilsport.'

'Listen, Fizzyknickers, flashing your tits at the poor sod's one thing. Me waving my cock at him would be something else entirely. I'll take your IOU. And I will be collecting, or there'll be consequences.'

Alex felt quite weak at the thought of the possible consequences and wondered if she dared try reneging on the debt, just to find out. A small whimper escaped her as her imagination went into overdrive, at much the same time as the car surged forward under Gene's foot.

They drove in silence for a minute before she voiced a concern. 'I need a new image. No-one seems surprised when you introduce me as a working girl.'

'Probably seems the only reason you'd be with the likes of me.'

'Maybe you need a new image, too.'

'Bollocks to that.' He pulled into the fast lane and surged past a Mercedes. They drove in silence for a few minutes before Gene spoke. 'That's why you're marrying me, isn't it?' His flickering glance and the glint of steel in his voice warned her to go carefully.

'What is?'

'For the sex. Because I'm the best lover you've had.'

'Says who?' She was laughing.

'Says you, almost every time.'

'Well, you are. By a long way. You have the assets, the expertise and the dedication. In spades…' She purred as she stroked his thigh. 'But that's not why I'm marrying you.'

'Don't believe you.'

'It's sensational, my love, and I hope we'll still be at it in the queue for the Pearly Gates. But I don't need to marry you for sex, do I?'

'You expect me to shag some loose floozie for the rest of my life?'

'Ahhh… you're marrying me so you can have the moral and legal right to exclusive access… I see…'

He didn't pick up on her flippant tone. 'D'you want a row, Alex? Because you're heading in the right direction for one.'

'No, honey, I'm teasing. I'm sorry. Look – Hilton services. Why don't you pull off – we could do with a breather.'

He took the hint, and stopped in the far corner of the car park, away from the handful of cars parked by the building. As soon as the engine died, Alex turned to him, smoky-eyed. 'Time I redeemed my IOU…'

Gene, his eyes black with lust, shifted in his seat. 'Can't get my cock out in a bloody car park, Alex.'

'No horses to frighten, Gene. Anyway, it won't be out. It'll be in my mouth…'

He shut his eyes and groaned, sucking in breath sharply as she stroked him; slowly she undid his belt buckle and slid his flies open. One hand went to his neck, pulling his head to hers, tracing his lips with her tongue, sliding it into his mouth as her other hand played with his cock, stroking and squeezing until he jerked his head out of her reach. 'Alex… please…'

She smiled, sultry, wicked, and bent to her task as he watched her, drunk with pleasure, as with hands and lips and tongue she drove him to the brink before pulling away, tormenting him. 'No, don't… don't stop… please, Alex, can't…' He put both hands to her head, guided her down, grunted in frustration as she teased him for a few seconds, then curled his fingers into her hair as she relented and drove him to the edge and over, groaning her name, mindless with ecstasy, all but unconscious for a few seconds.

He opened his eyes to see her smiling at him, felt her fingers stroke along his jaw. He smiled into her eyes, cupped her face, laughed a little shakily. 'Amazing… you… Alex. Love...'

She kissed him softly, then grabbed her bag and opened her door. 'Won't be long.' True to her word, she was back in ten minutes with a carrier bag.

Gene was perched against the car bonnet, smoking. As she approached, he had one last drag, dropped the cigarette on the tarmac and trod on it. 'What you got there, Bolls? Hope I can eat it, whatever it is. Starving.'

She fished out two styrofoam cups with lids. 'They claim it's tea, but I wouldn't swear to it.' Pulling out two sandwiches, she waved them vaguely. 'Ham or cheese. Not exciting, but it'll fill a hole.'

He looked at her through his eyelashes. 'I've had all the excitement my heart will stand for the moment, Mata Hari. As for filling a hole, can't you wait till I get you home?'

She chuckled and slid her arms round his neck, kissing his mouth, tasting smoke and desire. 'As long as that's a promise.'

Back on the motorway, Gene was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on Alex's thigh, her hand on his, thumb stroking his wrist. There were things to discuss, but neither wanted to risk the mood by bringing up contentious subjects; so they talked about the cat, about plans for the house, about past holidays…

'I'd love to go back to Greece, Gene. Have you ever been?

'No closer than Aphrodite's kebab shop in Roman Road.'

'Can I take you this summer?'

Gene screwed up his face, not knowing how to answer. 'Sort of depends on…'

The radio squawked. 'DCI Hunt? Brian Cruickshank.'

Alex grabbed it from its housing. 'Yes, sir. DI Drake. DCI Hunt's with me.' Never know who's listening. Why else would he use Gene's title?

'Of course he is. Where are you?'

'On the M6, just about to hit the M1.'

'Okay. Go and find a phone; call me on the usual number.'

They pulled off at Corley Services and rang, heads together so they could both hear Cruickshank's news.

'Thought you'd like to know. We've found Grenville.'

She and Gene swapped glances. 'Have you got him? Where is he?'

'Somewhere on the A38 on his way back here. In a meat wagon.'

'Dead?'

'Very.'

'What… where?'

'Bit odd. He was found on the edge of Wistman's Wood on Dartmoor. Like something out of the Hound of the Baskervilles. Throat ripped out.'

'Christ…' Gene muttered. 'By what?'

'No idea; the local pathologist refused to offer any theories. The ground was churned up around the body, hoofprints and pawprints. Time of death sometime before dawn this morning. His body was wet with dew.'

'Local toffs mistake him for a fox?'

'Maybe not as much of a joke as you'd think. Gene. Devon CID are getting a lot of dark mutterings about a local legend. They say it's Drake's revenge. Something to do with the Wild Hunt. Know anything about it?'

'I get a bit irritable sometimes, but...'

'Thank you, Gene. Ideas, Alex?'

'Rings a bell. Herne the Hunter? Riders and hounds chasing wrongdoers to hell… Or chasing a goddess. Something like that.'

Gene was thinking aloud. 'Drake's revenge… Grenville's got some family connection to Drake.'

Alex chipped in. 'I saw Drake's Drum once on a school trip. Buckland Abbey. Isn't that near Dartmoor?'

'Yes, to both. Keep going.'

'Grenville had some heavy duty connections. You know who they are, presumably.'

'We do, Gene, yes.'

'They're the tally-ho type, that lot. Riding to hounds. Could have got rid of him and made it look like Sir Francis Drake came to get his own back with these hunters and a big hungry dog. Superstitious locals – they'd lap it up. Like something out of a Denis Wheatley book.'

'We're thinking along much the same lines, Gene. Does the name Menna Williams mean anything to you?'

It did to Alex. 'She was with Harry Haggerty when I first met him. She was supposed to be a Greenham Common protester, but then she rocked up at the Essex safe house. DCI Clark introduced her as DI Williams so I assumed she was Special Branch.'

'Not Branch, Alex. MI5. After you last saw her, she dropped out of sight. Vanished. Until today. We found her too – on Grenville's boat.'

'Same as Grenville?'

'No. Shot – we're waiting for the ballistics report, but almost certainly with the Browning semi-automatic found lying beside the body. Standard army issue. Same as Miranda Carteret had on Friday.'

'Suicide?'

'No. Hands tied, shot in the back of the head. Classic execution. The timing is interesting. Tomorrow there's a press conference called by the New National Front, the British Movement and the British Democratic Party; word is they going to form a new party. Word is also that Grenville was due to be a big part of it.'

'Ah. Shame.'

'I can tell you're cut up about it, Gene.'

'Devastated, Brian. Alex too. Thanks for keeping us in the loop.'

'Sleep well.' Cruickshank was gone.

Back at the car, Gene opened the door for Alex. 'Well. Bugger me sideways. They play rough, those toffs.'

'Don't they just. That's what public school does for you.

He scoffed. 'Public school of hard knocks, eh?'

'Ever seen the Eton Wall Game?'

'Nope. Anything like the the Heaton Park game? Grab your oppo by the neck and run him into the nearest slab of concrete?

'Sort of thing. If you've trodden on his head first.'

Gene considered this new angle on the English ruling class. Maybe not so different to the rest of us, at that.

Alex chuckled to herself. 'I must introduce you to Nigel Molesworth.'

'Who?'

'The hero of St Custard's.'

'You're off again, Loopy Lou.'

Back on the road, Alex smiled grimly. 'I like the thought of Francis Drake coming for Grenville. Very poetic.'

'You're not related, are you, Bolls?'

'To Francis Drake? No... My ex-husband's the Drake and his family's from Kansas; not much of a seafaring tradition there.'

'Pity. Quite fancy you as the goddess of the hunt. You're Goddess of this Hunt, anyway.'

'Gene, you old romantic, you…'

'Make the most of it, Bollykecks. Marriage sorts all that nonsense out.' He gave her a slow smile, and put his hand back on her thigh.

xxxxxxxxx

They reached Fenchurch East just after five, and found CID deserted. 'Lazy bastards.'

'Beer o'clock, Gene. They'll be over the road.'

A cheer went up when they walked into Luigi's, and they were swamped with good wishes from all quarters but one. Ray tried to leave unnoticed, but couldn't get past Alex and Gene without acknowledging them.

'Guv. Inspector.'

'Aren't you going to have a drink with us?' Alex put a hand on his arm.

Ray sidestepped her. 'Bird waiting.'

Gene said nothing, but scowled as he watched the sullen sergeant leave the bar.

'La bella signorina! and Signore Hunt…' Luigi was there, arms spread in expansive affection, tears in his eyes. 'Such wonderful…' Lost for words, he embraced Alex, then kissed her hands in a rush of emotion. Now completely overcome, he kissed Gene on both cheeks and shook his hand with such zest that Gene wondered if he'd still have it on the end of his arm when the Italian was done.

Finally, Luigi was forced to go and serve customers. 'Gene…' Alex tugged at his sleeve. 'You've got about three seconds to decide if we're going to be here all night, or skipping off home.'

Gene looked at her, suddenly remembering there was a hole to be filled. 'Home, Bolls. Fancy a noisy night in. Just you and me.' He put his mouth close to her ear. 'Moaning and screaming.'

'Panting and groaning?'

'Let's go.'

Despite the protests, they left to a chorus of whistles and catcalls, and drove home via the Chinese takeaway, and the corner shop for breakfast and catfood.

'God… I feel like I've been away for a month.' Gene collapsed on the sofa, limbs sprawled, the cat jumping all over him.

'Do you want to eat now?' Alex called from the kitchen, unloading the takeaway and putting the milk in the fridge. 'Or we can warm it up later. Up to you, honey.'

He lit up and took a first calming drag. 'Later, then. I fancy a long, hot bath followed by a long, hot shag.'

'We could combine the two.'

'Temptress.'

'Thought I was a goddess?'

'Tempting goddess.'

'I'll run a bath.'

She kicked off her shoes and sashayed towards the stairs, peeling off her jacket as she went, dropping it on the bottom step. Her top came off next and slid down the banisters to hang in a silky fall, and as Gene watched her climb out of sight, her skirt fell and draped itself down a couple of steps. He followed her in his mind's eye as he smoked. Imagined her body – still in underwear, or naked? – as she bent over the bath, reached for the bath oil, stretched up to get clean towels from the airing cupboard… He stubbed the fag out, got to his feet and headed for the stairs.

In their bedroom, Alex was naked except for a towel that barely reached from bust to hip; she knew Gene loved to find her not quite naked, loved to remove the last piece of fabric from her body. She shivered as she thought of his hands reaching for her, his eyes alight with love for her. Waited for him to come through the door, see his face, watch him rip off clothing as he came towards her...

But he didn't appear. Having a sneaky fag first, maybe. She went to the bathroom and turned the taps off, stood breathing in the scented steam until her skin was damp. Where's he got to? The wait was beginning to spoil the moment.

'Gene? You coming up?'

No answer. Disconcerted, she went out to the stairs. Saw him sitting near the bottom, hunched over. 'Gene? Love? Is something wrong? You feeling okay?' She went down to him, put a hand on his shoulder. Froze when she saw what he had in his hand.

'Care to tell me about this?' He sounded as though he were interviewing a suspect.

She went down another couple of steps, tried to take the piece of paper from him, but he jerked his hand away, keeping the note out of her reach.

She shrugged. 'It's just a stupid note.'

'A stupid note.' He repeated her words slowly. 'The last time you got one of these, you went apeshit. Yelling and screaming and running out, locking yourself in the flat, driving us both nuts. But this one's just a stupid note.' He looked at her, finally. A flat stare, challenging her to lie. His face was shuttered, cold.

Alex shivered. Wrapped her arms round her body, leaned against the wall. Couldn't look at him. Didn't want to hear anything more; but he was silent. She looked at the paper in his hand. 'I was going to tell you.'

'Oh, that's nice to know. When was this scheduled to take place, Alex?' He spoke quietly, calmly. It scared her.

'I'd made up my mind to tell you tonight. After what Ena said.'

'Uh-huh. What was that then? About sharing? The bit about not lying? Pricked your conscience, did it?'

'Yes. But I'd wanted you to have some peace. Wanted to protect you from…'

'Protect… me?' He surged to his feet, loomed over her, eyes blazing. 'From what?'

She stumbled down the last couple of steps, backing away from him, not prepared for this fury.

He took a step down towards her, his face creased in bitter rage, fist clenched round Layton's note. 'You think I'm a child to be kept in cotton wool? Hmm? Think I need soft words and soft smiles from mummy? Think again, Alex. Kids need kindness, they need to be listened to. But more than anything, they need the truth. People never tell kids the truth. They pretend that everything's all right when it's not. They think they're shielding the poor little sods from the harshness of life. But guess what? The shit hits them anyway, and because no-one's told them the truth, the kids think it's their fault. Or maybe that they're not big or clever or important enough to be included in whatever bastard battle is being fought over their heads. After a while they think that maybe being in the shit is where they belong. And they end up fighting every fucker's battles for them to make up for not doing enough when it mattered. When they should have saved their own…'

He bit down on his words, hissing. 'And guess what else. That doesn't change when you grow up. You're brave, Alex, and I've been proud to have you standing at my shoulder in a fight. But I will never allow you to shelter me behind your skirts.'

'I wasn't trying to protect you from Layton…'

'What, then, for fuck's sake?'

'You'd had to deal with so much. I wanted you to have one normal weekend without some lunatic threatening us. I didn't want to load more worries on your shoulders.'

'So you thought you'd martyr yourself for my sake, hmm? Swallow down the fear so I could have a nice weekend? That's ludicrous.'

'I wasn't going to be alone. Wasn't in any danger. Was going to get the team back on Layton's trail on Monday without a big fuss.'

'Who were you going to tell about this?' He waved the note in her face. 'Ray?'

'No.'

'No. Because you knew Ray, being loyal, would tell me. Who then… Cruickshank.' He sounded suddenly sure. 'You were going to tell Cruickshank. Weren't you?'

'I thought about it.'

'I thought you trusted me.'

'I do. I trust you with my life.'

Gene scoffed at her. 'Clearly. Which is why you chose not to bother me with a stupid little note. When did you get it?'

She sighed. 'Friday night. Luigi gave it to me but I didn't open it at first. Remembered it in the car going home.'

He laughed in disbelief. 'So you had three senior police officers with you and you thought you'd shelter us all from this upsetting news?'

'You were all pissed. No point in telling you then. And the next morning… I just couldn't.'

'You just couldn't.' He repeated her words with scorn. 'I see. Setting aside the matter of your personal safety for a moment, did it occur to you, Detective Inspector, that this was evidence?' He was yelling at her now. 'Arthur Layton's a murder suspect, and wanted for attempted child abduction, or had you forgotten? Evidence – a concept I thought you were quite fond of – which is now four days old and of fuck-all use to us.' He was steaming; the rage was scalding her. 'Now we'll have to wait till Layton sends us an engraved invitation to afternoon tea or strolls in for a chat with Viv about Botham's fucking batting averages! I could arrest you for suppressing evidence, for obstructing the course of justice…'

'Go on then.' Stung into anger, Alex reached round Gene and snatched her top from where it hung on the banister rail, then grabbed her skirt as she stamped back upstairs with Gene on her heels. 'Put me in the cells and not only will I be safe from Layton but I won't have to listen to you shouting. Perfect.' She marched into their bedroom and flung the door shut in his face.

He flung it back on its hinges, taking a chunk out of the plaster as the handle slammed into the wall. 'I demand the truth from my team, and I thought I could rely on it from a woman I wanted as my wife.'

She ripped the towel from her body and flung it on the floor. 'I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you.' She started to drag on clean bra and pants.

'You deceived me.'

She whipped round like a furious cat, hair flying, eyes flashing. 'So did you deceive me when you chose not to tell me about quitting the Force? About ending your whole bloody career? About setting up some crazy business with a man you've known for four weeks?'

'That's completely different!'

Alex snatched clothes from hangers, leaving them rattling. 'Oh, of course it is.'

'Yes. It is.' He snarled at her, grabbing the clothes from her hands and hurling them on to the bed behind him.

'Naturally. You're a man. And I'm only the little woman, so it's none of my business…' She spat the words at him.

'Just like a bloody woman, incapable of thinking straight. Every fucking decision stinks of oestrogen.'

She stopped, then. Stood in front of him straight as an Amazon, half naked, fingers curling and uncurling, skin flushed and eyes black with anger. Gene felt his whole body catch fire. Wanted her fiercely. Took a step towards her.

She turned her head away, moved round him and picked her trousers up off the bed, stepping into them. She might as well have slapped him; would have been easier if she had. He could have reacted. Pulled her close. Stopped the row with kisses. But she'd pulled away from his touch, held him away with angry silence. His rage turned in on him and died, chilling him to the bone. 'Bolls…'

She didn't hear the misery in his voice, still furious, still turned away from him. 'No, no, bully for you. I'm delighted you can be so cool about everything.' She pulled on a t-shirt over her head. 'Can shove everything neatly into pigeon holes. Turn your emotions on and off.' She sat on the bed, pulling on socks. 'Well, guess what, genius… I can't. That much malice, that kind of violence turned on us feels a bit personal, to me. Seeing you in agony; keeping it all locked inside you…' She dashed her hand across her eyes, then got up to fetch her boots. 'I can't shut it away in some convenient box in my head like you say you can. I've failed to cope with it all. Failed to stay professional. So, hey…' She held her arms out wide in surrender. 'I fucked up. I made a bad mistake, Guv. I'm really sorry.' She sat down abruptly. 'I've been so confused; in love with you, so happy one minute, and the next…' She put her elbows on her knees, dropped her head so he couldn't see her face.

'It's turned me inside out.' Gene's voice was flat, so quiet she could barely hear him. 'I don't know what I feel about any of it.' He went to the window, stared out at the cherry blossom under the street lights, reflected in the still water of the canal. 'I love you, Alex. You can pull me out of hell and into heaven with one touch. You reach into my past and turn it inside out with a flick of your wrist. But this morning… sometimes it terrifies me, how fast you're changing my life. And now this. I'm not sure I can…'

Alex wiped her eyes and looked round at him. Saw him with hands and forehead against the glass, his back to her. 'If you can what – forgive me? Or go through with the wedding?' He didn't answer. 'Gene?'

'I don't know.'

'You set the date.'

'Yeah.'

'I agreed to keeing it quiet. No fuss. What you wanted.'

'But it's not going to be quiet, is it, with you inviting everybody you meet.'

'What?'

'It was going to be us and a few close friends. Then you're scattering invitations like the confetti we're not going to have. Or do you want that, now?'

'Hang on a little tiny minute. I've asked one person who's my friend. Shaz. Everyone else there is going to be your family or your mates, or our joint friends. You asked Dorney, for fuck's sake! Then you asked an entire family we only met yesterday. You invited your ex-wife. And you're angry because I asked your mother and the widow of your best friend?'

'Sam was my friend, not so much Annie. You could see that this morning. We're friends because of Sam, but we're not close. I didn't ask my mother because we don't get on. You saw that too. And you said you wanted Mirza there.'

'I do. I was really pleased when he said you'd invited him. And his dad. But now all the kids and his mum too?

'Well, uninvite them, then.'

'Don't be stupid. I'm happy to have a party. It's our wedding, for god's sake. I want our friends there to celebrate with us. And you're bloody lucky to have family. Why not make the most of it?'

He snorted. 'Oh, here we go. So you do want the whole sodding kaboodle.'

'What – fifteen people at this house for a drink and half a pork pie, or whatever we end up getting from Sainsbury's on Friday night? It's not exactly the Guards' Chapel and Cadogan Square, is it? No cake, no speeches, no bloody honeymoon.'

'You said you didn't want all that! You agreed we were as good as married so we didn't need a big fuss.'

'You said it, and I didn't argue. I don't need any of it. All I need is you, you idiot. But it would have been nice to have something that made it a wedding and not just a bit of paperwork.'

'For Christ's sake… why didn't you say so, then?'

'Because I was so staggered that you wanted to get married that I'd have agreed to getting hitched on a North Sea trawler if you'd wanted.'

Gene turned back to her, half a smile on his face. He saw Alex pushing a piece of clothing into a stuffed holdall and the smile vanished. 'What the fuck are you doing?'

'Getting out of your hair.'

'What are you talking about?'

'You've made no promises. Signed nothing. Now's the time to think very hard about what you want. You can't do that while I'm here.'

'You're not walking out on me.' He strode over to her, took her wrist in a tight grip.

She met his fierce glare with a wry smile. 'No, Gene. Of course I'm not.' She pulled her arm away gently, touching his face briefly before going into the bathroom, collecting essentials. 'I'm staying somewhere else for a couple of nights, not leaving you. I'm bound to you for as long as I live but I don't want you feeling you've got to go through with it if you're not ready. I'll be at the registry office on Saturday morning if you still want me there. You can set another date, you can cancel altogether. I can continue to live here, or I can move back out…' Her voice wobbled and she turned her head away, not wanting him to see her cry. 'Whatever you want. Just please don't say you don't want us to split up altogether.'

Gene was speechless. He sat on the bed, looking through the holdall, seeing what she was taking. Alex pushed his hands away, stuffed in the bathroom things and zipped the bag shut.

He looked dazed. 'Am I missing something? What's going on?'

She moved the bag and sat down beside him. Took his hand.

'You need to think about the years ahead of being married, Gene. If we do marry, then it'll be as equal partners. I won't be like Ruth, waiting at home and turning a blind eye. Decisions that affect us both will be made by us both. I don't expect us to do everything together. I'm not going to smother you… or mother you. We'll fight a lot, but if we do what you said…' She smiled at him and stroked his hand. '… be kind to each other, and listen, and tell the truth, we'll work it out. It's going to be hard for you to learn to live in a partnership. For me, too. I'm used to being in control and it's hard to let go. If you change your mind I wouldn't blame you.'

He looked away, chewing his lip. 'I know what I want. But okay. If you insist, I'll think.'

'I'll see you in the morning.' She squeezed his hand and stood up. 'I'll miss you.' She picked up the holdall.

He put a hand on her waist. 'Where are you going?'

'Luigi's. He's let my flat but the top floor's still empty.'

'There's no furniture in it.'

'There's a futon. That's all I need.'

'This is madness. I don't want you to go.' He looked up at her, reached for her, pulled her closer. 'Bolls…'

She looked into his eyes, and her tears spilled over. She put her fingers beneath his jaw, lifted his chin, bent and touched her mouth to his, her hair falling against his face; he pushed his hands under her t-shirt, his fingers spreading over her back, hot against her cool skin. Suddenly they both caught fire, desperate to wipe out the misery and anger of the last half hour. Clothes discarded, they made amends with frenzied kisses, hands and mouths on naked flesh; no words, only sounds of pleasure and passion, driving each other to the point of oblivion, joined in such intense sweetness that they dropped into sleep within moments, wrapped in each other, heart to heart.

xxxxxxxxxxx

When she woke, Alex didn't want to move. This was home, wherever he was. Whenever. But she knew he had to go into this marriage as a free, sober choice. She was scared that when the shine wore off and times got tough, he'd begin to feel trapped; that marriage would feel like a cage to a big cat. And if he felt that she'd locked him in by making him marry too soon…

She kissed him, featherlight, and slid carefully away from him; picked up her clothes, grabbed the holdall and her boots, and crept out of the bedroom, leaving him sleeping.

She dressed in the kitchen with a curious cat for an audience, fed him so he wouldn't scream in Gene's ear, and scribbled a short note, using the Whiskas as a paperweight.

The door closed behind her with a clunk, and she turned to the right. Taxi… best place… Grove Road. Part of her expected Gene to drive over to Scarborough Street when he woke up. Demand to be let in. Drag her home. Or drag her into bed. She smiled at the thought. Smiled at herself for half hoping he would, for wanting to give in to his Cro-Magnon instincts. Gene.

'Hello.'

A shadow at her shoulder. That voice. London voice. Oh god…

Before she could scream, an arm clamped her against a wiry body; a hand over her face. 'Relax, Alex. Going to make you happy.'

Sweet smell. Damp fabric against her mouth and nose. Can't breathe…

God… Gene…

The dark invaded. Overwhelmed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC